I asked him if he missed it, and his reply was an
emphatic "no." But it was obviously not something he
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wanted to delve into, so I changed the subject.
He saw the world so differently from me, so much
smarter. His insight and perspective were fascinating to me.
I saw things in black and white and never really thought too much of anything outside of my own life. He was so much more knowledgeable on
everything
than me. His thoughts were calculated and intelligent, yet he seemed equally absorbed in things I talked about.
And before we ended our phone conversation on
Tuesday, I asked if I could see him the next night. I may have bribed him with promises of dinner, but he answered with, "I'd like that."
And when I got to his place on Wednesday, I could
hear him talking on the other side of the door. I knocked anyway, and he opened the door with a smile and his phone to his ear. I stepped inside the doorway, and ignoring the fact he was talking to someone else, I kissed him soundly before walking in.
He laughed into the phone. "No, Beth, I have to go.
He's here."
Oh.
He's here…
He clicked off the call and smiled as he kissed me again. "My sister was playing twenty questions."
"You told her about me?" I asked, though it was more a statement than a question.
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"Um… yes," he answered hesitantly, pushing his glasses up on his nose.
I smiled. "It's okay, Logan," I told him. "I told Tim about you, too."
"You did?" His eyes widened in surprise, and he blinked.
Nodding, I smiled at him. "I sure did." I took his face in my hands and kissed him deeper this time, savoring the feel of his soft lips, the sweet taste of his mouth. He sighed into the kiss, melting into me. Not breaking the kiss, I slid my arms around him and pulled him against me, my body acutely aware of how he fit against me.
I'd only been near him for a minute, and I already wanted him. Figuring I better pace myself, I slowed the kiss. When I pulled my mouth from him, I smiled at the kiss-drunk look on his face and straightened his glasses. He chuckled, a little embarrassed.
I noticed then the dining table was cleared of all my receipts and papers. "Oh, you've finished with my accounts?"
Logan smiled, but it was hardly genuine. The look
confused me, but before I could comment, he said, "No, I, um, I've sorted all the paperwork into a general ledger. I'll have more done tomorrow."
"I didn't mean you should have it done by now," I
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told him quickly, worried I'd offended him. "It just means we don't have to eat sitting on the floor."
Knowing then I wasn't teasing him for not doing his job, Logan smiled properly.
"Anyway," I went on to say, "I thought we could go out for dinner."
"Really?"
"Sure. I mean, only if you want to."
He looked surprised. "Um, yeah. Sure."
I looked down and waved my hand at my jeans and
T-shirt. "Know anywhere close by where this is good enough?"
"You look fine," he said softly.
"Well, I did iron my shirt," I boasted proudly.
Logan smiled warmly. "Do that often?"
"Um, only on special occasions." I grinned. "Which is not very often." I looked at his neatly pressed charcoal dress pants, neat black shirt, and light gray vest. "You iron everything, don't you?"
He pouted playfully. "Yes."
I laughed and shook my head, marveling at just how different we were. I pecked his lips. "Come on. I'm starving."
We soon found a small cafe where we settled in for dinner and easy conversation. I kept waiting for us to run
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out of things to talk about, considering how opposite we were, but it never happened. The conversation between us never stopped.
We'd finished our main course and were having a
coffee when Logan's eyes kept darting around the room. I followed his gaze. There were other people having dinner, but nothing looked out of the ordinary. I couldn't see anyone staring at us, but it wouldn't be the first time small-minded people found two guys together offensive. "What's wrong? Are people looking at us?"
"No," he answered quietly. "I'm just wary, you know?"
I frowned at him and put down my coffee. "Did something happen to you?"
His lips twisted into a thoughtful pout, as though he was choosing his words carefully. "Just the usual high-school and college stuff, you know…"
"No. I don't know."
Logan smiled sadly and nodded. "Well, you
probably wouldn't. You're a big guy, played football…" He said the word as though it tasted bad. "And I was the little kid, the geek with glasses in the chess club. Add gay to that…"
He didn't have to finish.
"I'm sorry," I said, though I knew they were such
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inadequate words.
He smiled ruefully. "It's not your fault."
I took a deep breath. "Did your parents support you?"
He gave me a small smile. "Yeah, my family was fine. It was just everyone else that wasn't."
The complete opposite of me. We
really
were so very different.
Before he could ask me about my family, I reached
out across the table and slid my hand over his. "Well, I'd like to see someone say something to you now," I told him.
I was going to add "while I'm with you" but stopped short. I looked around the room again. "If anyone here has a problem with us, with this—" I held up our joined hands.
"—they can speak to me about it."
He smiled and blushed, silently pleased at my
protective comment.
"Logan…" I said his name gently. "For what it's worth, I've had my share of people who didn't agree with—
" I searched for the right word. "—my preferences." I lifted the hand not holding his and bent my nose, proving it had been broken. Twice.
On the table, his fingers curled around mine, and he stared at me. His eyes searched mine for the longest moment, and then he swallowed. "I think we should go
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home."
I couldn't help but smile. "I think so too."
I knew what he was asking, and my dick came to
life.
I wanted him.
And we both knew when we got back to his place, I
would have him.
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He certainly didn't waste time. We were no sooner
through his front door than he took my hand and, without another word, led me to his bedroom. It was darkened, but my eyes soon adjusted. I didn't want to miss a thing.
He walked us over to his bedside table, found a
condom and lube, and threw them on the bed. The muted light only made him look even more beautiful. His dark hair looked pitch black, his pale skin almost white.
He took his glasses off and looked at me, his eyes a little out of focus. I cupped his face in my hands, rested his forehead to mine, and searched his eyes.
I watched for any sign of hesitation, but there was none.
He wanted this.
He wanted me.
He wanted me as much as I wanted him.
I was so turned on, hard and aching. But it was
unhurried between us, savored. I took my time kissing him, undressing him, adoring him, prepping him.
His pale, lithe body writhed under me. His moans
turned to words of "more" and "please, please, now, please."
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I sheathed myself, and lifting and spreading his
legs, I pressed my cock against his ready hole. I leaned forward over him, looking for any flicker of doubt in his eyes.
His only response was to lift his legs higher,
offering himself to me, urging me to please, please push inside him, where he wanted me, needed me. Keeping his eyes open, he lifted his head off the bed and kissed me.
"Brent," he murmured. "Please."
So inch by exquisite inch, I buried myself inside
him.
I pushed in oh-so-slowly until I could go no farther, keeping my lips on his, kissing him softly. Logan's knees were bent up near my chest, and my hips were flush on his ass.
I was so far inside him.
It was so hot, so tight. So right.
"Oh, God," he groaned, low in his throat. "Move for me, baby."
I rocked my hips, thrusting long and slow.
Logan gasped and groaned as I moved inside him.
His legs wrapped around me, pinning me to him, inside of him. He rocked us, setting the pace, thrusting his hips so my cock slid in and out of him, as
he
wanted, as
he
needed.
I wanted to watch my cock slide into him, but I
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needed to kiss him even more. Leaning over him, I touched his face before I fused my mouth to his, teasing him with my tongue.
One of his hands fisted in my hair, making me
moan, and his other hand slipped in between us. He pumped himself, pushing his hips up to meet my thrusts in time with his hand.
I might have been topping him, but so help me God, he was in charge. He set the pace.
He led me, and all I could do was follow.
Then he started to buck underneath me, groaning
and squeezing. His head pushed back, and his hand pumped faster, faster, harder. I was so deep inside him, fueling his fire.
He convulsed under me one last time, and with a
strangled groan, he came. I watched in wonder as his orgasm surged through him, erupting hot and wet between us.
So beautiful. So fucking beautiful.
Watching him, feeling him, being inside him while
he unraveled beneath me, brought me to the edge. When his hands held my face and he said, "Come, baby, come," it did me in.
My senses came back to me with the feel of long
slender fingers tracing feather-light patterns on my cheeks
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and in my hair. I opened my eyes to find Logan barely an inch from my face. His eyes were heavy-lidded, and he had a blissful smirk. "Hey."
"Hey." My voice croaked. Then I mumbled, "Jesus, what did you do to me?"
He hummed and smiled, a little smugly. I kissed
him. "Don't go anywhere," I told him, rolling off the bed.
Walking into the bathroom, I discarded the condom and took a warm, wet cloth to use to clean us both up.
Logan hadn't moved and was still lying on his side.
I crawled up his body, washing him down, kissing his damp skin as I went. I rolled him onto his back, wiped him clean, kissed his hip, his stomach, his ribs, collarbone and finally his jaw and lips.
He smiled, but his eyes weren't focusing on me
properly. "Um, Logan?" I asked, pulling his bottom lip between mine.
"Mmm?"
"Can I ask you something?"
"Mmm hmm," he hummed again, and still his eyes were dancing all over my face.
"Can you see without your glasses?"
He grinned. "No. Not a thing."
I rolled off him, laughing into a pillow before
reaching over to his bedside table. I turned on the lamp and
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grabbed his glasses, then lining them up, I slid them on his nose. "How's that?"
"Much better."
I scanned his face and tapped the heavy-framed
glasses. "I like these," I told him. "They suit you."
He blushed and bit down on his bottom lip. I
chuckled at his sudden shyness, considering what we'd just done, and rolled us over, pulling him into my arms. I kissed the side of his head then his cheek. I've never been one to cuddle, or to even stay in someone else's bed after sex, but with him, with Logan, I didn't want to leave.
I didn't let myself dwell on that or how new and odd this was. This delicate man in my arms felt so right. I didn't want to question it. I just wanted to enjoy it.
We lay like that, in silence, for a while, and when I told him I wished I didn't have to leave, his response was simple.
"Then stay."
I rubbed his back and smiled. "I have to be at work by six-thirty. Not like those lazy accountants who have 'til nine."
He chuckled quietly then sighed contentedly.
I traced my fingers up his spine. "Can I see you tomorrow?"
He leaned up on my chest and looked at me for a
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long moment. He nodded. "I'd like that."
I smiled and leaned up to kiss him. "Me too."
My head fell back on the pillow, and his finger
traced my eyebrow and across my cheek. His voice was quiet, but sure. "I've never known anyone like you."
I smiled. "What? Don't you have cute tradesmen who keep their taxes in an old shoebox in to see you every day?"
He grinned and shook his head, but I knew what he
meant. We were very different. I wasn't his usual type any more than he was mine. I didn't want it to be an issue between us. "But we're good, aren't we?" I asked, suddenly very nervous at what he would answer.